


A Matter of Trust

by AudreyV



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Age Difference, Awkward Sexual Situations, Dirty Talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, First Time, Healing Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Knives, Lesbian Sex, Near Death Experiences, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Pansexual Character, Trust, Trust Issues, Undressing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 10:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18364280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyV/pseuds/AudreyV
Summary: Agent Philippa Georgiou would do almost anything for Michael Burnham, including break into her quarters to comfort her after the events of The Red Angel and Perpetual Infinity.Spoilers through 2x11.





	A Matter of Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Вопрос доверия](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617319) by [allayonel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allayonel/pseuds/allayonel), [ST_Discovery_20XX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ST_Discovery_20XX/pseuds/ST_Discovery_20XX)



> Every time an anti screams that shipping Milippa is wrong because they’re mother and daughter in every universe, I feel that much more inclined to write them naked together. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> However, for those squicked by pseudo-incest, rest assured that in this fic THIS Georgiou and THIS Michael don’t consider each other mother and daughter. Eventually I’m going to write Milippa that blurs those lines way more, but this is not that fic. 
> 
> I am living for the strange, complicated Mirror Georgiou redemption arc that they’re crafting. I still miss Prime Georgiou but god what we’re getting is so delicious.

Philippa Georgiou, former Terran Emperor, was well versed in the art of waiting in the shadows. She'd been born into power but she’d needed to learn how to seize it too, and a preemptive strike was the best defense in a world full of smiling betrayals.

The key was to know how to emerge from the darkness.Quick like a viper, striking before your victim knew what hit them. Or gracefully, as if you were something soft and non-threatening.

Not every shadowy corner in Georgiou’s past was a prelude to murder. Sometimes the threat was enough. Prove you can appear unsummoned in someone's personal space and they will know you're to be respected.

And sometimes it wasn't a threat at all. Sometimes she'd slink out of that shadow for the promise of soft skin and sweat, to fuck or to get fucked or both.

This didn't feel like any of those times. That bothered Georgiou. How could she know how to behave if she didn't know what was expected of her? (Her fault, really. She should have considered the possibilities before slipping into the quarters Michael shared with that prattling ensign and concealing herself in a corner.)

But now Michael was here, flopped on her narrow bed, staring at the ceiling, and for the first time in her long memory, Emperor Philippa Georgiou had no idea what to do.

“You're lurking. It's weird,” Michael said flatly.

Georgiou moved from the shadows into the room.She sat down on Killy— no, Tilly’s bed and waited.

Michael didn't sit up or stir, didn't ask a question or throw her out. She just stared.

“Where's Tilly?” Michael asked finally. She sounded tired. (She died today, and that was just the beginning. Of course she sounded tired.)

“In the guest quarters assigned to me. Probably having a bubble bath.”

“Why?”

“Does no one relax and enjoy simple pleasures in this stuffy universe?”

“No, I mean—” Michael sighed. She sat up and faced Georgiou. “Why is she there and you're here?”

Georgiou thought for a long moment.

“I don't know,” she said finally.“I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Well, you've seen me. This is pretty much it.” Michael rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. “You'd think seeing my mom alive again would have made me something other than numb, but I guess that's all I've got left.”

“Michael—”

“There's a dam in me, Georgiou. All that emotion is bottled up, all the terror and agony and hope I felt today. Or would have felt, if I'd had that luxury, but I didn't and so I pushed it as deep inside as it would go. And when the dam breaks, everybody’s gonna drown.” Michael finally looked to Georgiou.“You sure you want to be here for that?”

“You act as though I'm unfamiliar with your tears, Michael.”

“I'm not your daughter.”

“I'm well aware. You are… something else. And you already have two mothers in this universe. You hardly need a third.” Georgiou moved over to Michael's bed. She stood beside it for a long moment. When Michael didn't object, Georgiou sat beside her.

“Today was a hard day,” she said. “Seeing your mother and then…”

“In my mind, she's still the woman she was when I was ten. But so much time has passed for her. She was different. And now she's gone again.” Michael shook her head and wiped a stray tear off her cheek with the back of her hand. “I shouldn't be this upset. It's not the first time I’ve met a stranger with a familiar face.”

“I won't take that personally,” Georgiou said evenly.

“Maybe you should.”

“Would a fight make you feel better?”

“Maybe,” Michael admitted. She breathed deeply and then curled toward Georgiou, who stiffened for a moment before tentatively resting a hand on Michael’s arm.

“You’ve looked your own death in the face today, Michael,” she said. “Among other things. I know what that does to a person.”

“So you’re here to what... teach me some Terran meditation techniques to help me process it all?”

“I’m here to help you feel alive.”

“How?”

“However you want me to.”

Michael seemed to consider this, then she nodded.

“Lie down with me,” she said finally.

Georgiou nodded. She started to put her feet up on the bed, then changed her mind and moved to unbuckle her boots first. She carefully removed the blade she concealed there and placed it on Michael’s bedside table.

“Really?” Michael asked in a low voice. “You walk around with a knife in your boot?”

“In my universe I carried no less than twelve weapons at any given time,” Georgiou said as she tucked her boots next to the table. “Here I am down to four.”

“Where are the other ones?”

“Someplace they can stay while I lay with you.”

Georgiou thought Michael would press for more information, but she didn't. She simply stretched out on the bed and waited for Georgiou to join her.

The bed was narrow but they were both small. Georgiou extended her arm so Michael could rest her head against it. After a few moments of shifting, Michael was curled up against her, with one of her arms thrown over Georgiou’s chest, her head resting on Georgiou’s leather-covered shoulder.

“Anything else?” Georgiou asked.

“Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything that's not serious.”

Georgiou thought about this for a moment. All of her recent work was either classified, depressing or both so that was out. She considered sharing an anecdote about her Michael, but she didn't know how this Michael would react.

“I had a delightful interaction with Stamets and Culber,” she said.

“Does your version of delightful leave anyone bleeding?” Michael asked, skepticism streaking her voice.

“Occasionally. But not today. They're quite in love with each other, you know.”

“They are.” Michael wrapped a few strands of Georgiou’s hair around her finger, then corkscrewed it out again. “Or they were. It's complicated.”

“People in this universe make things far too complicated. Life is short. Why would they deny themselves the comfort of each other?”

“You’re a romantic.”

“Perhaps. I was married three times, you know.”

“I didn't. My Philippa was only married twice,” Michael said. Georgiou winced at the turn of phrase but said nothing. “What were you saying about Stamets and Culber?”

“It's not important,” Georgiou said. “Just a bit of fun. Red can tell you all about it tomorrow.”

“I love that you call Tilly ‘Red.’”

“I couldn't keep calling her Killy,” Georgiou scoffed.“She's just so soft.”

“She is,” Michael agreed. “I love that about her.”

“I'm starting to see the allure.”

“Of Tilly?”

“Of softness.” Georgiou smiled. She skimmed her fingers along Michael’s cheek. “Today I realized how devastating it would be to lose you.”

Michael stiffened in her arms.

“You mean lose me again.”

“You aren’t her, Michael. I don’t expect you to be. You’re something different... something rare. And I would like to know you.”

Michael seemed surprised by this response. Georgiou watched her consider her next course of action, tilting her head in that maddening Vulcan way.

“You said you're here to help me feel alive. Am I right to read a certain… subtext into that statement?”

“You're asking if I meant in a sexual way.”

“I'm not her,” Michael said quickly. “You just said it yourself.”

“That isn't the part that gives me pause.” Georgiou shifted slightly as she struggled for words. “I am not your Philippa. It wouldn't be as you remember.”

“Philippa and I…” Michael trailed off. Georgiou thought Michael looked impossibly sad. “We never crossed that line.”

“You would cross it now?”

“We’re both different people now, aren't we?” Michael asked, holding Georgiou’s gaze.

Georgiou wondered who she might have been in this soft universe. If she could have been more like the woman Michael so clearly adored.If having lived a different life, she might have been worthy of such adoration.

The thought made her ache. She pushed it away. Georgiou’s eyes flicked from Michael’s doe eyes down to her soft mouth.

“Do it,” Michael whispered and Georgiou leaned down and pressed her mouth to Michael’s, reveling in the sensation of warm lips against her own.

Kissing had never been Georgiou's focus. In her universe, sex was fun, athletic, messy— but rarely was it contemplative or slow enough to spend time on the pleasantries.But Michael’s mouth moving so gently against hers and Michael’s hand coming up to cup her face made her regret that she’d never let a moment breathe like this. 

It wouldn’t have been the same, even if she had.There was something unique about the situation, the two of them and the day they’d had.Another time she wouldn’t have been so patient— with anyone else she couldn’t have been.

When Michael pulled away, breathless and flushed, Georgiou studied her for a moment.

“I’m going to take my clothes off, then I’m going to undress you,” she said in a low voice that thrummed with tension. Michael nodded and Georgiou stood and began to disrobe.

She peeled off her leather pants and placed them on Tilly’s bed, deliberately ignoring Michael’s chastising look.She met Michael’s gaze as she added a second knife to the bedside table, then slowly unbuckled her thigh sheath.She dropped it onto Tilly’s bed on top of the pants.

“This is a pauper’s room,” Georgiou muttered as she unlaced her over-corset.“I can’t believe they still make you share a room with that girl.”

“They don’t.We choose to,” Michael said with a defiant tilt of her chin.

“You want me to ask if you’re lovers,” Georgiou purred.She tossed the corset onto the growing pile on the bed and followed it up with a studded vest before stripping off her long-sleeved undershirt.“I won’t, because I don’t care.”

“You think if we were lovers she would have ditched me for a bubble bath?” Michael asked in an amused tone.

“It’s a very nice bathtub,” Georgiou purred.She turned toward Michael as she pulled off her over-corset.

“You wear a corset under your corset,” Michael noted, sounding vaguely amused. “Is there some sort of section 31 dominatrix replicator pattern database or are these your own designs?”

“You’d be surprised what a tailor can do with a needle and thread, Michael,” Georgiou said.She walked back to the bed still in her underwear and base corset. 

“You’re not going to take that off?”

“No.” Georgiou reached up and took out her ponytail, swiftly detaching the extensions and leaving her own hair just barely skimming her bare shoulders.From the band that held her hair in place she pulled out a mini-injector and placed it gently on the bedside table.

“Dare I ask?” Michael said.

“It’s a paralytic. Non-fatal.I’m on a short leash,” Georgiou quipped, a wry smile on her face. She got into the bed next to Michael and reached for the zipper of her uniform. “Your turn.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve still got one weapon on you,” Michael said as she shrugged out of the jacket.“Even now you don’t trust me.”

“You have no idea how much I trust you.” Georgiou pulled Michael’s undershirt off, revealing a navy blue wrap bra.“Lie back,” she instructed and Michael did.Georgiou pulled off her boots, then her pants, which she unceremoniously flung toward Tilly’s bed.

“You’re much more careful with your own clothes than with mine.”

“Mine are worth far more than your sad standard issue clown suit,” Georgiou said.She paused and thought for a moment.“I’d prefer not to take this off,” she said quietly, gesturing to her corset.“I have reasons for that.I trust you’ll accept that without my listing them for you.”

“Philippa,” Michael said like a sigh.“I was just teasing.I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Such an odd universe,” Georgiou said. “As if sex should be comfortable.”

“It should be,” Michael shot back.“Exhilarating, pleasurable, but also comfortable.I can’t imagine having sex with someone I didn’t trust.”

“You trust me.”

“I do.”

“Me,” Georgiou emphasized.Michael reached for her and pulled her close.

“You. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Georgiou nodded.She kissed Michael again and moved her body close.She maneuvered them until she was on top of Michael, her thigh between Michael’s legs.

The crackling energy between them built slowly.It took long stretches of deep kissing as their breathing grew heavier and the movement of their hands changed, from barely-there caresses to desperate, deliberate pulling at each other. 

It was an entirely foreign land for Georgiou.Even the most emotional of her conquests had still been that— a conquest.As a young woman she was the prize to be won, the lithe body to be conquered; as she rose in the ranks, she earned her turn to subjugate, to take what she wanted.As Emperor, she could have anyone, but every warm body in her bed came with a caveat— this might be the one who gets the drop on you and plunges a dagger into your chest.It left little room for contemplation or a slow build.

“Philippa?” Michael’s breathless voice shook Georgiou out of her thoughts.“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, embarrassed she’d allowed herself to become so distracted. 

“Philippa,” Michael said, more firmly this time, as she grasped Georgiou’s shoulders.

“Stop calling me that.”

Michael pulled away slightly.Georgiou didn’t know if she was surprised or offended, but when Michael spoke her voice was simply warm and low.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“I never knew how difficult it would be to share it with a ghost.”

“That makes two of us,” Michael admitted.“You think I don’t realize you’re treating me differently because I look like your daughter?”

“If you think I’d do any of this with my Michael, you’re more twisted than my universe was,” Georgiou growled. She shifted away, trying to get space from Michael, but in the process she nearly teetered off the side of the narrow bed.She righted herself quickly and sat on Tilly’s bed, glaring.

“Phil— Georgiou,” Michael corrected herself.“I’m not saying that.I’m saying… you would have taken anybody else without a second thought.”

“You presume to know so much about me.”

“Am I wrong?” The silence hung in the air for several long moments.

“No. But not because you look like her.I’m not doing that because it’s not what you need.” Georgiou hugged her arms across her chest, running her fingers along the ridge of her last knife, pressed between her corset and her side.“In truth, what you need is her, and I’m not her.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Michael said. She stood and came over to Tilly’s bed to sit next to Georgiou. “My Philippa— that Philippa… she had very clear boundaries.My life was most certainly in danger while I was on the Shenzhou, more than once. I've always been a little reckless. She never broke into my quarters afterward to make sure I was okay.”

“But you were close.”

“We were. But I think she was scared of what that closeness could mean if we didn’t keep it in a very defined box.We often spent leisure time together, even alone, having dinner in her quarters or decompressing after a long shift with a drink.But she avoided that intimacy when I was vulnerable.” Michael looked down at her hands. “I don’t think she was ready to see how fallible I was.I was easier to love when I was perfect.”

“Nonsense. You’ve never been perfect,” Georgiou said. When Michael looked up at her, slightly stricken, she cracked a smile. “Perfection is overrated, Michael. In my universe, we appreciated the fun of a little mess.”

Michael smiled back. Georgiou reached for her again, pulling her into a tight hug.They stayed that way for several long moments, until Michael pulled away to look into Georgiou’s eyes.

“You were right, when you said I saved you because I couldn’t save her,” Michael admitted in a low, steady voice. “We both know you’re not her. But no part of me regrets saving you. And all of me is grateful you’re here with me, right now.”

Georgiou looked into Michael’s wide-open eyes and marveled at how fearless she could be.A second later, she took Michael’s mouth again, more insistently.Her fingers buried themselves in Michael’s curls until she had enough hair between them to move Michael’s head back to expose her neck.She nipped at Michael’s throat and Michael moaned. 

Georgiou pulled Michael’s bra off over her head.She glanced down at Michael’s chest, an expanse of smooth skin unmarred by war wounds, then pushed her onto her back.

“No, wait,” Michael said and Georgiou froze.“We can’t do this on Tilly’s bed.”

Georgiou let out a breath of relief she didn’t realize she was holding. 

“She’d be offended?” Georgiou scoffed, but she stood and moved to Michael’s bed anyway.

“She has allergies,” Michael said evenly, moving their clothing unceremoniously to the floor before joining Georgiou on her own bed. “And I’m sure they include whatever exotic animal your leathers are made out of.”

“Perhaps that’s why she always seems about to break out in hives when I’m around,” Georgiou retorted. She drew Michael into her arms again and kissed her hard.

Georgiou guided Michael down to the bed. She toyed with the waistband of Michael’s underwear and waited until Michael grew still.

“Go on,” Michael said quietly.“Take me.”

Georgiou flattened her palm against Michael’s stomach, then slid her hand down under the waistband of the underwear. Her fingers slipped through soft hair. Georgiou kept her pace steady and very slow as she explored Michael. It became trance-like for her as she monitored Michael’s tiny reactions — a barely-there gasp, the stiffening of the muscles of her abdomen, the slightest rhythmic tilt of her hips.

A hand against her own inner thigh snapped Georgiou out of the moment. In less than the space of a breath, she’d pinned Michael under her body and had her last blade pressed firmly against Michael’s throat.

Neither of them breathed. The adrenaline coursed though Georgiou. Her face felt hot and wet and she felt Michael trembling between her thighs.

A dark part of her wondered if they were always fated to come to this, to betray each other in every universe, either by decisive action or wounded instinct.

Georgiou threw the knife toward the other bed, not considering where it would fall. Not caring, just needing it out of her hand and away from the soft flesh of Michael’s throat.

As soon as the blade clattered to the floor, Michael’s arms were around her, pulling her down into a fierce embrace. Georgiou resisted for a moment, body stiff and ready for fight or flight, then she relaxed into Michael, becoming boneless and malleable.(Leave it to Michael Burnham to react to a threat to her life by reaching out instead of pushing away.)

Georgiou’s heart beat hard in her chest.She pulled away slightly to look at Michael and was about to speak when Michael pulled her down again, bringing their lips together. 

This time, there was nothing slow or contemplative.The kiss was bruising.The way Michael’s tongue breeched her mouth told Georgiou things had shifted between them.Michael’s fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of Georgiou’s neck and held her there, hard.

“That was the last weapon, right?” Michael asked, breathless when she finally relaxed her grip.

“I don’t need a weapon to be deadly, Michael,” Georgiou retorted, just a hint of amusement in her voice. 

“Good thing I can take you then,” Michael whispered. Her lips curved up in a alluring smirk. She slipped her hand down between them and tugged at Georgiou’s underwear.“Take these off.”

“You think because I’m unarmed you get to give the orders?” Georgiou asked, but she stood and stripped off them off anyway. As soon as she was back on the bed, Michael reached for her.

“Touch me while I touch you,” Michael said, a slight furrow between her eyebrows and an intense look in her eyes.

Georgiou straddled Michael’s thighs and then leaned down to kiss her again. She felt Michael spreading her legs further, which widened Georgiou’s own stance over her. Michael’s fingers found her center and touched her deliberately and confidently this time.

Georgiou felt exposed by their position and a bit ridiculous, but the last thing she wanted was another interruption. What she wanted was to see Michael come apart underneath her, and if letting Michael amuse herself in this way would help that outcome, Georgiou would allow it.

She supported her weight on one arm as she slid the other down between them. Michael was still wet, slick with the heat Georgiou had been coaxing out of her. Almost slicker, more ready now, although Georgiou didn't know if that was the result of the blade recently pressed against her throat (possible, and fascinating) or the fact that she could now touch Georgiou with abandon.

And touch she did. Georgiou was pleased to find Michael approached sex with the same Vulcan precision and human passion she brought to her work. Michael’s fingers lightly stroked Georgiou’s clit, massaging it in steady circles before sliding back to her opening.

Georgiou found herself a little caught off guard when Michael pushed those fingers inside her, fast and hard. She moaned, surprise quickly replaced by pleasure. Taking Michael’s lead, she did the same, burying her fingers deep in Michael’s cunt.

“Oh! Philippa,” Michael groaned, arching into the touch. “Sorry,” she added quickly.

“No, I like it when you say it like that. Again,” Georgiou ordered in a low voice. She thrust her fingers deeper, reveling in the way she made Michael writhe under her.

“Philippa,” Michael gasped. The sound sent a flood of heat to Georgiou’s center. Michael’s hand kept up its motions, alternating between circling Georgiou's clit and penetrating her.

Everything felt dangerous and topsy-turvey, like so many things in this universe. Georgiou breathed deeply and raggedly as she tried to focus on the task of making Michael come apart, but her mind kept tugging at her consciousness, reminding her that everything was different. Her vulnerable physical stance, the way she was letting Michael touch her, the sound of her name repeated over and over in a voice that was at once heartbreakingly familiar and so new— it was all so much, all at once.

She pressed the thoughts away deep into the back of her mind but the things that rushed in to fill the void were worse.

A shuttlecraft, blown to pieces on her order, scattering molecules of her heart in a field of glittering debris.

Michael, strapped to a chair and screaming, as the people who promised to protect her stood helpless and safe behind a thick slab of glass.

“Look at me,” Michael said suddenly and Georgiou forced herself to. Michael’s dark, kind eyes bored into her and Georgiou was struck by the thought that an idealist and a Terran drowning their sorrows in each other might be courting disaster. 

“I need you to be here with me, Philippa,” Michael whispered. “Right now, there's nothing else in the universe but you and me, okay?”

Georgiou nodded.

“If you'd fuck me better, I wouldn't get distracted,” Georgiou muttered. She rolled her eyes theatrically and Michael grinned.

“Yes sir,” Michael quipped. She used her free hand to drag Philippa down for another bruising kiss.

“I can tell you're close,” Michael murmured. “You're gorgeous when you're about to come, Philippa,” she added, drawing out the name like a melody.

The pressure was building low in her belly. Georgiou looked down at Michael and her heart swelled with a deep affection she'd never felt before. It was a lump in her chest that felt heavy and ached as Michael smiled at her.

“Come for me.” It was an entreatment, not a command. A command would have wrenched Georgiou out of the moment, caused all her walls to snap up again, but Michael’s gentle voice simply asking reverberated in her body and Georgiou felt her release start to take her.

She pressed her mouth to Michael’s as she rode it out. The crest and the waves that followed were warm and comforting, like being swaddled in a blanket after a swim. Michael’s fingers continued to move inside her, steady and smooth, as Georgiou’s body clenched around them.

Georgiou was used to experiencing a sudden disinterest in sex as soon as she'd come, but as the aftershocks coursed through her all she wanted was to see Michael come apart. She had a hunch and added a third finger to Michael’s wet heat.

“That’s a lot,” Michael gasped. Georgiou stilled her hand for a moment.

“I said I'd make you feel alive,” Georgiou said. At Michael’s confused expression, she continued. “In my experience, a little too much can be just right for breaking down that wall, between you and feeling something.”

When Michael nodded, Georgiou slowly pushed her fingers as deep as they could go, then pulled them out again. She found a rhythm and used her thumb to apply pressure to Michael’s clit as she fucked her.

“You want my mouth?” Georgiou asked. “Normally I’d never stimulate a subordinate orally, but I could make an exception for you.”

“No— I mean, yes, I do want that, but not right now. Just hold me and make me come, Philippa.”

Georgiou ached to do just that.She wanted it more than she’d wanted anything in a long time.She kissed Michael possessively as her hand continued to nudge her closer and closer toward bliss. 

Michael squirmed in her embrace, reaching for that release.Georgiou pulled Michael close, let her bury her face in the crook of Georgiou’s shoulder, and held her there firmly. 

“I’ve got you, Michael,” she said as gently as she could.The tone sounded wrong coming out of her mouth, weak and wistful, but Michael groaned and seized in her arms. 

Michael said her name over and over again as she came. Once “Philippa” from Michael’s lips was like a knife, but now Georgiou relished it.Her Michael had called her “Mother”; this Michael may have called the other one “Philippa,” but never in that desperate, pleasured tone of voice.It was hers now, as much as this Michael was hers.

When Michael’s soft mews and sighing stopped, Georgiou looked down and was alarmed to see tears running down Michael’s face.She thought for a brief moment she’d been too rough, but then realized it was likely the emotional release Michael needed, so she relaxed back on the bed and pulled Michael into a very different embrace.She cradled Michael to her chest as Michael sobbed, then sniffled, and finally stilled.

“This has been a rollercoaster,” Michael said finally. She moved her hand soothingly along Georgiou’s corset-covered stomach. (A curious sensation, Georgiou thought vaguely, and an strange inversion of their roles.)

“It has. I'm sorry, Michael.”

“For what?” Michael blinked at her, confused.

“For pulling a knife on you, mid-coitus,” Georgiou explained, but Michael shrugged.

“Usually I know better than to make unexpected moves on a Terran,” Michael said. “I was distracted.”

“Usually I'm much more in control of myself. Today was… distracting.” Georgiou looked down at Michael. After a long moment of consideration, she sat up and unlaced her corset.

“You don't have to,” Michael said quietly, but she made no move to stop Georgiou. Instead, she waited, and watched. 

“If I want you to trust me, I should start by trusting you.”

“You were just inside me. Obviously I trust you,” Michael protested.

Georgiou rolled her eyes as she yanked the cord free of the last two eyelets. She pulled the corset from her body then dropped it onto the floor, avoiding Michael’s eyes as she did. She couldn't ignore the audible gasp that came when Michael saw the large scar just below her breasts.

“You're bruised,” Michael whispered and Georgiou’s head snapped to her.

“What?”

“From the fight today, with Leland. You need to go to sickbay.”

“I'm fine,” Georgiou said firmly.“I must admit, that was not what I expected you to comment on. A few measly bruises.”

“That scar is old and wouldn't be causing you pain. Today’s injuries would,” Michael glared at her.“Will you at least let me tend to them?”

“Fine. If it will make you stop chattering on about it,” Georgiou said with a huff.

Michael got out of bed and went to the small attached bathroom. She returned a moment later with a med kit.

“Lie back,” she said. Michael treated Georgiou’s bruising and mild internal bleeding with a small energy device. When she was finished, she put the kit on the floor and crawled back into Georgiou’s arms.

It had been a long time since Georgiou had felt the warmth of bare skin on hers. It was obscene how much of her soft flesh was on display and how far away she was from a weapon. Georgiou closed her eyes and bolstered her resolve to let it happen.

She was safe. There were no assassins lurking in dark corners. The woman next to her wasn't biding her time and waiting to attack.This universe was full of possibilities.

Georgiou chuckled to herself.

“What?” Michael asked.

“Your mother made me promise to take care of you. I doubt that was what she meant.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Michael grumbled.“But thank you.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of me.”

Georgiou held Michael for a long time. She stroked her arm and hummed at tuneless song, but eventually started to grow restless.

“You don't have to stay with me. The bed’s too small for two people and I'm fine.” Michael smiled and cupped Georgiou’s face. “Now.”

Georgiou shifted. She heard the out Michael was giving her. After some consideration, she kissed Michael one last time and then got up to gather her clothing.

When she was dressed, Georgiou smiled at Michael.

“Next time,” she said as walked toward the door.

“Next time what?” Michael asked.

Georgiou glanced back over her shoulder at Michael.

“Next time, I’ll stay.”


End file.
